Susan Sizemore - The Hunt

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Front Cover

THE HUNT

Laws of the Blood 1

By

Susan Sizemore

Contents

Chapter 2

Chapter 6

Chapter 9

Chapter 12

Chapter 15

Chapter 18

Chapter 21

Chapter 24

Glossary

In Los Angeles, the Enforcer Selim has been called upon to approve a hunt. Much time has passed since the vampires of the city have last tasted fresh blood, and they are clamoring for the kill.

It's Selim's job to keep them under control - and there are those who resent his authority.

He must not waver or show weakness when he gives the Law. His life and the life of his mortal love Siri depend on his strength.

But a whispered rumor is distracting him, a rumor of betrayal, of a violation of the most sacred of the Laws: Never reveal thetruth about your own kind

LAWS OF THE BLOOD: THE HUNT

An Ace Book / published by arrangement with the author

PRINTING HISTORY

Ace edition / October 1999

All rights reserved. Copyright 1999 by Susan Sizemore.

Cover art by Dave Dorman.

This book, or parts thereof, may not be reproduced

in any form without permission. For information address: The Berkley Publishing Group, a division of Penguin Putnam Inc. 375

Hudson Street, New York, New York 10.014.

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World Wide Web site address is http://www.penguinputnam.com

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ISBN: 0-441-00.660-4

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PRINTED IN THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA

This one's for me. So there.

Next

When the blood fever rises, it is the Enforcer who names the time, the place, and the prey.

APRIL

DAVY

(Kneeling in the alley, surrounded by dead bodies. Blood everywhere.) Stares at Sam: What happened?

SAM

Bares fangs:

Nothing you're going to remember.

"THAT SUCKS!"

Valentine snorted at the irony of what she'd said and hit the delete key in disgust. She was very good at irony. Her dialogue usually fairly dripped with it. Right now, this script didn't drip with anything, not even the fresh blood she was hoping to inject into her take on a vampire story. Everybody in town was looking to make Scream-alikes; even she was in on it. Teen horror with a cynical twist was staying hot. She could do cynical.

"What I don't do is horror," Valentine told her agent when he first suggested the production package. "Especially not vampires."

But it was a sweet, sweet deal. After she thought about it for awhile, Valentine decided, Oh, what the hell. There couldn't be any harm in it.

"And it's so ironic," she muttered and went to get herself a cup of coffee.

The kitchen wasn't far away. Valentine was never far away from a cup of coffee. Her condo was expensive, but it wasn't big. Just a bedroom, kitchen, and a living room that doubled as an office.

There was a basketball game on the large-screen television in her living room. She glanced at it, saw the Lakers were down by eight points, and decided it was best to work and continue to keep the game on as background noise. Problem was, she didn't want to work. The night was flying by, and she hadn't yet put down a word that was worth keeping. "Discipline," she told herself.

"You can do this."

There was a terror inside her that told her she couldn't, that she was empty at last.

She noticed the blinking light on the answering machine as she returned to her desk. She had three phone lines, but only one person had the number to the phone hooked up to the machine. She didn't want to talk to him. She didn't even want to listen to his messages. There had been a time She almost reached for the Play button. No. It would just be recorded pleas and demands.

"Reruns," she grumbled. "And I'm talking to myself again."

Came from being alone too much, she supposed. But everyone knew she was eccentric and reclusive. It added to the mystique to make people come to her. To make them want something that was hard to get. You had to use every trick you could to survive in this town.

"Gets boring, though, doesn't it?" she complained and marched right past her desk and onto the balcony. She could feel the accusing glow of the empty computer screen at her back. "I can't help it," she complained to it. "The words just won't come." She'd always been a storyteller. But lately

The balcony was full of flowering plants and was surrounded by a high, stucco wall. She leaned her elbows on the familiar rough surface and looked at the view beyond the walled garden that surrounded the building. The air smelled of jasmine and car exhaust, just as it always did. It was beautiful here, peaceful at this late hour. For all of its location near what passed for a heart in this splayed-out city, the building where Valentine lived conjured the charm and luxury of a different era. The Bunker Hill neighborhood was an old one; urban renewal had simply caught up with it and forced it to redecorate. She had preferred it before it became trendy but supposed the newfound popularity would pass, too. She'd still be here.

"I'm not bored," she told herself. "I'm not lonely. I'm not desperate."

She was all those things and knew it. It was time for a change. There was something going on, it was as pervasive as the smog around her. This restlessness was not her way. If there was one thing she hated, it was change.

She sipped coffee and listened to the song of a night bird for awhile, hoping for inspiration. Behind her, the game was getting noisy.

The Lakers were making baskets. She had to get back to work. She had to put something resembling a story on disk soon, even if it was shit. She wandered to stand in front of the television, coffee cup clutched tightly in her hands. Shaq was on a rampage. Cool.

After a few seconds, Valentine sat down on the couch, attention riveted on the screen. She sat back. She relaxed. A camera panned across the crowd near the floor for reaction shots after a particularly beautiful pick and roll. Valentine sat up at the speed of light. The coffee cup dropped from her hands to crash into shards at her feet. Hot liquid splashed her legs.

"What? Show him again!"

But the camera had moved on to a close-up of a whooping Tom Cruise. Valentine snorted derisively.

She'd actually liked the boy in Interview, but it wasn't pretend vampires that interested her just now. She desperately wanted the camera to move left again, to give her another chance at viewing someone she hadn't seen in years.